


Perchance to dream

by Crowley_Kitten



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dreams, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten
Summary: Day 14.Ineffable Kinktober.Somnophilia/Sleepy Sex.Crowley dreams as an incubus dreams....
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84
Collections: Ineffable Kinktober 2020, my Ineffable Kinktober





	Perchance to dream

The Demon Dreams. 

He dreams as an incubus dreams. 

He dreams of the taste of lust on his tongue. He dreams of hot breath in his ear, and moans that curl his toes. He dreams of hurried fumbles and whispered secrets. He dreams of the taste of frankincense and honey on his tongue. He dreams of the dust dancing in the light from the glass dome of the atrium in the bookshop. He dreams of hands soft and insistent on his eager cock. He dreams of pink lips. Eyes that can’t decide to be blue or grey or green. He dreams of neat white teeth, a soft jaw, perfect for licking and biting. He dreams of fond stolen glances. He dreams of wanton groans around dessert forks. He dreams, he always dreams, of the Angel. (There are times he dreams of something other than the Angel. But those are nightmares. Of flame and heat, and cold and being lost, abandoned and alone. He likes the Angel dreams so much more. Without those dreams, he would choose never to sleep.) Crowley grips the sheets in his long fingers, and he hisses in his sleep. 

He dreams those soft fingertips caressing the angles of his face. That fussy voice soothing him. He Wonders how much is dream and how much is real. 

Aziraphale strokes his fingers again and again through the blood-red waves. Smiles as this most beautiful creation murmurs his name, slur soft with sleep and desire. He feels so privileged to be permitted to be with him at his most vulnerable. At his most naked. The Demon with no guard up. The Demon without his façade that he saves for everyone but him. Only Aziraphale can watch his face lost to sleep. Only Aziraphale can look into those sunset eyes. Only the Demon remembers the first time Aziraphale watched the Sun Set. The time he took him to the West wall of Eden to see the echo of his beloved dawn. Bloodstained and galaxy painted. Aziraphale’s heart feels like it could burst for the fondness that fills it to capacity. Capacity for love? He hadn’t thought that such things had limits. 

Crowley clings to him, burying his face in the softness of his chest. He makes a small noise, low in his throat. Then he stills. Sleeps more peacefully. Aziraphale reaches for his book and reads a while. The soft darkness gradually lightens. Aziraphale places his book on the cluttered bedside table, and watches as wakefulness comes. As the light dances on Crowley's brow, and his eyes tighten, his face turns away from the window. Already, the sounds of London waking. The city dawn chorus of soft cooing. 

“...zirphale.......” That voice sleep soft and adoring. The Demon rolled over, now face down, his hips beginning to grind into the mattress. the way he choked out a heavy groan. Aziraphale reached down to find the beautiful cock hard beneath the demon. He takes it in a firm grip, positioning himself over the prone body. Is this wrong? He doesn’t see how it CAN be wrong. As the demon grinds his hips into the mattress, he thrusts his own hardness against that remarkably perky, firm arse. Crowley is trembling, moaning. His dreams must be wonderful. How Aziraphale wished he was there in those dreams with him. With one hand around the dripping wet cock, the other caressing the demons buttocks. Crushing them together where his own cock rutted between them. 

without waking, the Demon cries out, the demon spills his seed onto the sheets. Aziraphale follows close behind, making a mess of the demons lowe back. Crowley slumps into the bed, loose-limbed and spent. Aziraphale licks slowly down the demons long and serpentine spine until he can lap away the mess he has left.


End file.
